


Soft Hearts, Electric Souls

by Little_Winchester



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2017 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, And that surprises a grand total of no one, Blowjobs, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Bottom Sam, Bottom Sam wesson, Drunk Sex, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, Feminization, Light Feminization, M/M, PWP, Panties, Reverse Cowgirl, Riding, Sam In Panties, Sam wears lipstick, Shameless Smut, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017, They didn't use protection and they should have but I was lazy and still am so it's staying that way, Top Dean, Top Dean Smith, Zachariah is a dick, and Dean likes it, pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Winchester/pseuds/Little_Winchester
Summary: Sam Wesson admits that he doesn't know much about Dean Smith. And yeah, he'd like to know more.One thing leads to another, and while getting carried away might sometimes be a bad thing, Dean lying naked in his bed certainly isn't.Entry for the 2017 SPN kink bingo. Square filled: feminization.





	Soft Hearts, Electric Souls

**Author's Note:**

> The title is, once again, a line from a song- House of Memories, by Panic! at the Disco because I am Panic! trash.

The ghost of Mr. Sandover himself was flinging Dean into the wall and choking him, and then Sam upended the canister of oil onto the gloves and dropped his match into the mix and the pressure at his throat was gone.

 

“Damn,” Dean wheezed. He took a second to regain his composure and unsteadily stood up, ignoring the trembling of his legs. “That was something, huh?”

Sam looked about as unnerved as Dean felt. “Yeah. We make a good team,” Sam said, and though his voice sounded shaky, there was an unmistakable undertone of pride lining it.

 

“We should celebrate,” Dean offered, and Sam grinned back.

 

“Best idea you’ve had all day,” Sam replied, and Dean mock punched his arm. Sam laughed, a carefree laugh that somehow took Dean’s breath away and made heart feel too big for his body.

 

Meanwhile, Castiel and Zachariah were watching covertly as both men strolled out of the building. Castiel turned to Zachariah, who was smirking smugly as he peered at the Winchesters.

 

“It’s done, Zachariah,” Castiel said. “They found the ghost, and you’ve successfully proved what you wanted to. Stop this farce.”

 

Zachariah shook his head. “All work and no play makes the Winchesters very dull boys,” he admonished cheerfully. “I’ll let them have this one night, then I’ll give them their true memories back. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

 

“Does it matter what I say?” Castiel responded tiredly. “You’re planning on continuing this charade regardless of how much I argue.”

 

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Zachariah admitted, shrugging. “I’m going to leave soon, and I suggest you do too. I don’t think anything that happens after this is going to be particularly interesting.”

 

Castiel huffed, but Zachariah was right. There wasn’t anything he could do anyway. With one last glance at the Winchesters, who had gone into their respective homes and changed into a more casual attire before meeting again, he left.

 

Dean hesitantly poked at Sam’s doorbell. Doubts plagued his mind, since he wasn’t sure if he’d gotten the address right, and had no way to contact Sam if the information was incorrect.

 

The door suddenly creaked open and there was Sam, grinning at him with a six-pack clutched in his hand. He shook it slightly at Dean, who smiled back with ease, all uncertainties forgotten. “Come in and we’ll break it open. I didn’t really feel like getting wasted alone.”

 

“Getting drunk by yourself is never a good idea,” Dean agreed. He walked into the living room with curiosity, cataloguing everything because, Dean suddenly realized, he was in the house of someone who was practically a stranger to him and Dean knew absolutely nothing about Sam other than his name and job.

 

He sat down on a well-worn red couch, and Sam passed him a beer. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from. I’m kind of a hoarder,” Sam joked, and Dean grinned at him.

 

He swallowed a mouthful of beer before saying anything else. “You know,” Dean said, choosing his words carefully, “It’s weird. I mean, back when we killed the ghost,” Den paused here to take another swig, “You were this stranger who just wandered up and somehow we ended up killing burning the remains of the founder of Sandover, and when we were fighting him and it was like we knew exactly what to do. Like, unconsciously. I wasn’t worried because I had this crazy feeling that you were watching my back.”

 

Sam considered him. “I don’t know. You still seem familiar to me, but in that strange, caught-it-just-out-of-the-corner-of-my-eye kind of way. Was it like that for you?”

 

Dean tilted his head thoughtfully. Then he finished his beer, and threw the empty can on the table. “I think… I think I’ll invite speculation tomorrow. Today, I want to get drunk and I want to learn more about the peculiar Sam Wesson who saved my life.”

 

Sam grinned. “What, d’you want to play twenty questions?”

 

Dean nodded sagely. “Yeah, and then I’ll braid your hair and talk about boys and whatever else you want to do. Sound fair?” Dean teased.

 

Sam laughed. “Shake on it,” he demanded, hazel eyes twinkling.

 

Dean grasped Sam’s hand in his own and gave it a squeeze. “I’m starting,” Dean said, and Sam gestured for him to ask away.

 

“Where are you from?”

 

“Lawrence, Kansas. You?”

 

Dean snorted. “Little far from home, aren’t we, Dorothy? Sioux Falls, by the way. South Dakota.”

 

It was simple, after that. Inconsequential and meaningless questions like “What’s your favorite color?” or “Cats or dogs?”. They finished the six pack and Sam brought out another, staving off sobriety for a while longer. Dean declared Sam their savior, and chugged down another bitter gulp.

 

They were nearing the end of their sixth beers respectively when Sam asked, “Have you ever kissed a boy?”

 

The question felt like a punch to the gut, and Dean didn’t know why. He silently shook his head.

 

Sam regarded him unblinkingly, then leaned over and did the unthinkable.

 

Sam kissed him.

 

It was a soft brush of barely-there lips and a wet tongue flicking between his lips for a second and then Sam was sitting back against his sofa, expression unreadable. “Now you have,” Sam pronounced carefully, and Dean just gaped.

 

Dean stared at Sam for a moment too long, and Dean knew it because Sam was starting to look uncomfortable.

 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Sam whispered, and Dean stood up, dumped his beer on the table and leaned over Sam.

 

“What are you…” Sam started, but Dean cut him off with another press of lips. Sam’s breath hitched and his hands flew to Dean’s neck, one bunching up his shirt and the other one tugging at his hair, both pressing Dean down as if to sit him down on Sam’s lap.

 

Dean complied without hesitation and deepened the kiss, his hands firm on Sam’s chest. It was a strange sensation, to find hard-packed muscle instead of soft breasts. Dean decided that he liked it, regardless the uncertainty he felt. From the half-aborted bucking of Sam’s hips, he could feel Sam’s erection bumping against his own, and he was clearly interested too, but… What did he do now?

 

When Sam broke the kiss off for air, Dean decided to address his question before it led to a bigger problem.

 

“I’ve never had sex with a guy,” Dean said simply, and left Sam to connect the rest of the dots.

 

“I figured,” Sam said with a grin. “There aren’t many people who have never kissed a man but have had sex with one. D’you wanna top, then?”

 

Dean nodded, slightly relieved. Topping, bottoming- even though Dean wasn’t familiar with the more explicit mechanics, this he understood. “Sure,” he replied, an easy smile taking over his face.

 

Sam kissed him again, short and sweet. “Wait here,” he said. “I want to try something.” With that, he gently deposited Dean on the couch and fled the room.

 

Dean waited for ten agonizing minutes, minutes which thumped against the insecurities in his mind and almost led him to leave the room at one point.

 

Dean heard soft footsteps pad down the length of the adjoining hall, and he twisted in the couch to catch a glimpse of Sam.

 

Dean’s jaw dropped.

 

Sam was leaning against the door frame with a coy grin on his face, and fishnet tights wrapped around muscular legs. Dean’s gaze traveled up when he realized that the stockings were only one part of the ensemble, and Sam shifted the panels of his dark button-up to reveal lacy black panties hugging his hips and- Jesus, was Sam wearing _lipstick_?

 

Sam raised an eyebrow, amused. “Well?” He asked. “What do you think?”

 

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a fish, his mind feeling like it was short-circuiting. “Christ, Sam,” Dean gasped. “You look gorgeous.”

 

Sam blushed slightly and waved the compliment away. “You said that you’d never been with a guy, and I thought that maybe something familiar would be nice.” He waved Dean over and squeezed his waist when Dean was close enough. “I also wanted an excuse to put the panties on,” Sam whispered in Dean ear, and Dean couldn’t stop the shiver of lust that sparked down his back.

 

Dean pushed Sam back towards the bedroom, eager to taste, to touch, to feel everything because, God, how was he supposed to resist Sam like this?

 

“Get on the bed,” Dean growled as soon as they were in the room, and Sam laughed and slid the shirt down his arms before sprawling down against the headboard like it was a throne. He looked like a king of sin.

 

“Lube’s in the nightstand,” Sam piped up, interrupting Dean’s momentary reverie. Dean crossed the room in a few quick strides, tossing the first bottle of lube that he found at Sam, who caught it effortlessly and then dropped it on a nearby cushion for posterity. Sam grabbed Dean’s shirt and yanked him down for a bruising kiss, rough and messy with teeth.

 

They ended up with Sam hovering over Dean, Sam mouthing at Dean’s neck and his hands delving beneath Dean’s shirt. Dean groaned and gasped, then fumbled with his shirt to get it overhead and far, far away. Sam had this pleased little smirk as he leaned down again to suck bruises down Dean’s chest as he undid Dean’s belt, and then Sam dragged down Dean’s jeans and boxers and grinned as if he had won a prize. “Jackpot,” Sam mumbled as he stroked Dean’s cock, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

 

Sam looked up innocently. “What?” Sam asked.

 

“Nothing,” Dean replied. In his opinion, it was he, not Sam, who had struck gold tonight. And it was kind of funny anyway, maybe even funnier than the fact that throughout Dean’s introspection Sam had been biting at Dean’s inner thighs and was just about to go down on him and Dean hadn’t even noticed.

 

Sam licked a stripe up the base of Dean’s cock before lightly sucking at the head, making Dean arch his back and moan. “Wait,” Dean gasped.  Sam pulled off with a wet pop, his lipstick smeared on one side.

 

“Yeah?” Sam asked nervously. “Do you want to stop?”

 

Dean shook his head. “Hell no,” he chuckled. “But, you need to stretch yourself open if I wanna fuck you, right?” Sam nodded slowly, unsure of where the conversation was going. “Can you do that at the same time as this?” Dean gestured at Sam’s mouth and at his own cock, which was dribbling precome onto his belly.

 

Sam shrugged. “Probably,” he replied, then leered at Dean. “First time for everything, right?” He grabbed the lube and carefully rolled the panties down his thighs, careful not to tear them before flicking them away. Once they were off, Sam had more than enough space to slide a hand in, and for his cock, which was previously straining against the flimsy fabric, to slap against his chiseled abs.

 

Sam poured lube on his fingers and spread his thighs, still clad in fishnets, and Dean was presented with a sight that made his heart stutter for a second. Sam circled his furled hole with a finger before gently pushing it in, making all sorts of noises that Dean just couldn’t get enough of.

 

Before long, Sam was easing a second finger in and he nodded at Dean. Dean kissed him gently and guided him down to his cock, all while Sam’s fingers were still leisurely thrusting inside him. Sam laved tiny kitten licks all up the length of Dean’s dick before kissing the head and jacking it slowly as he worked his mouth around the considerable length. Dean’s cockhead was hitting the back of Sam’s throat before long and Dean moaned and bucked his hips up into Sam’s mouth, his hand involuntarily going to clutch at Sam’s hair. Not to hold back or push down, but simply to hold it at Sam bobbed his head up and down and sucked at Dean’s dick as if it were a straw.

 

The feeling of Sam’s mouth around Dean was almost too intense for Dean, and he found himself nearing orgasm more than once. Luckily, Sam seemed to be able to tell from Dean’s expression and dragged him back from the edge just rile him back up again and have Dean chanting a litany of curses and praises and screaming, _“Sam!”_

 

After a while, Sam pulled off and crawled up so that his lips were brushing on Dean’s. His arms boxed Dean’s head in against the headboard, his pupils blown. He ground his hips down on Dean’s, drawing a wrecked moan from both of them. “Stay still for this part, okay?” Sam rasped out, and Dean didn’t hesitate to nod. Sam smiled and lifted himself off Dean, only to turn around and lower himself down so that Dean’s member brushed against Sam’s hole.

 

Sam lingered for a second before slowly easing himself down on Dean’s cock, panting heavily. His muscles rippled like waves and Dean was entranced with the way they tensed and relaxed as Dean’s dick slowly disappeared inside Sam. Once Sam was fully seated, Dean let out a low groan and buried his face in Sam’s large back, loving the feeling of Sam clenched around him.

 

“Give me a minute to adjust,” Sam mumbled, and Dean ran a comforting hand down Sam’s side.

 

“Sure thing, gorgeous,” Dean replied, nosing at the curls at the base of Sam’s neck.

 

True to his word, it was barely a minute later when Sam tentatively raised his hips, just enough to create friction before slamming back down. He repeated the action, each time rising more than the last until Dean’s cockhead caught at Sam’s rim every time he bounced.

 

Dean drew Sam’s back to his chest, stilling his movements. His hands danced around Sam’s chest, just casually exploring as Dean rolled his hips up. There wasn’t much he could do with this position, but simply pressing up against Sam felt like Heaven, so he rolled up his hips as much as he could and delighted in the little whines that Sam was making. Dean stroked Sam’s pectoral lightly until he brushed Sam’s nipple, and Sam tensed up, his breath stilling. Dean squeezed it and rolled it between his fingers, waiting for some sort of reaction from Sam.

 

Sam whimpered.

 

 _Christ_. That sound was like music to Dean’s ears. And now he was in familiar territory- no matter how nervous he was before about sleeping with a man, there were certain things he knew how to do. And this was one of them

 

“You’re just like a girl, aren’t you, Sammy,” Dean breathed, still teasing Sam’s nipple. He tugged at it slightly and relished the moan that escaped from Sam’s mouth almost as much as the sudden tightening of Sam’s ass around his dick. “All dolled up for me. Christ, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, and scraped his teeth down the slope of Sam’s neck. A slight tingle ran through his body when he called Sam ‘Sammy’, but Dean dismissed it in favor of other, more important things.

 

Sam shivered in his grasp, his hands bunched up in the bed sheets as Dean sucked lovebites on Sam’s neck and shoulders. Dean knew they wouldn’t have faded in the slightest come morning, and he was going to have fun mapping them out.

 

Dean chuckled roughly; he felt like he was gaining some control back, and there were few things he loved more than power during sex. And here Sam was, sitting on his dick with his pretty lipstick smeared and his silky smooth stockings brushing against Dean’s thighs and Dean knew that Sam’s balled-up panties were just in his reach and all he wanted to do was wrap them around Sam’s dick and jerk him off until he made a mess.

 

“How about we get this show back on the road?” Dean mouthed against Sam’s neck, and he could see Sam’s lips curve into a smirk.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Sam whispered back, and he pulled off Dean just long enough to twist around and slam back on, this time facing Dean. Dean groaned and dug his fingers into Sam’s muscled arms, eyes transfixed on Sam’s heaving chest. Dean grasped Sam’s discarded panties as soon as Sam started rocking on his lap again, and kept them clenched in his hand for later.

 

It wasn’t long before Dean was thrusting his hips up desperately to match Sam’s pace, his orgasm so close he could nearly taste it. Sam’s nails scraped down his back, drawing a low groan from Dean, and he knew Sam was as close as he was.

 

With the panties fisted in his hands, Dean roughly tugged at Sam’s dick, who stuttered for a second before gasping and tightening around Dean and there was cum bubbling between Dean’s fingers barely a second before he shot his load into Sam.

 

Sam collapsed onto Dean, who wrapped his arms around Sam and stroked his back soothingly.

 

“Well,” Sam said, his voice hoarse. “That was something.” His breath tickled Dean’s neck as he spoke.

 

“Yeah, it was,” Dean replied, before frowning and asking, “Can I stay the night?”

 

Sam snorted. “What kind of bastard would I be if I kicked you out now? Yeah, you can sleep here. You can stay for breakfast too, if you want to. I’m making pancakes.” With that, he Sam gingerly stood up and limped towards the bathroom, tossing Dean an assurance that he’d be back before long as he went.

 

Sam came back a few minutes later dressed in pajama pants and bearing a wet towel, which he gave to Dean along with his boxers. Dean surged up and kissed him, surprised to find that there was no trace of lipstick on Sam’s lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he murmured with a smile

 

Sam shook his head. “Get your ass to sleep,” he ordered teasingly, and shimmied beneath the covers so that he could cuddle up to Dean.

 

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Dean replied, grinning when he heard Sam laugh behind him. He pressed into Sam’s chest and was out like a light before long.

 

·····

 

Castiel stared. It was completely understandable, in his situation. The Winchester brothers were curled up together on a single bed, the air heavy with the scent of sex, leaving no doubt of what had transpired in the muggy room.

 

 _Zachariah_ , Castiel thundered. _Come here at once._

 

Zachariah fluttered into the room with a rapid beat of his wings, and observed the scene with a sort of detached curiosity, perhaps the way a scientist might look at a couple of lab-rats which had done something unexpected, but ultimately unimportant.

 

“Why have you called me down here, Castiel?” Zachariah asked, his tone neutral leaning on bored.

 

Castiel gestured at the two men on the bed. “What is the meaning of this?” Castiel hissed, making sure that the Winchesters were submerged in a deep enough sleep that they wouldn’t be woken up by his discussion with Zachariah.

 

Zachariah shrugged. “This,” he intoned, “is free will. I didn’t interfere, you didn’t interfere, and left to their own devices, the Winchesters chose to become involved sexually. That’s all there is to it.”

 

Castiel was positively _fuming_. “They didn’t know they were brothers, Zachariah,” Castiel said quietly, fire and Grace burning in his eyes.

 

Zachariah shrugged yet again. The simple gesture infuriated Castiel to no end. “What do you suggest we do, then?” Zachariah asked dryly. “Leave them in this false reality?” Zachariah shook his head. “I don’t think so.” With that, he waved a hand, restoring the true memories of both Winchesters.

 

“They’ll wake up in their own due time,” Zachariah said as a farewell, and then, he was gone, leaving Castiel alone with the slumbering brothers. His anger dissipated slowly until all that was left was an echo of sorrow for the troubles the Winchesters were to face soon. He shook his head sadly, and left. There was nothing more to be done.

 ·····

Sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains as Dean Winchester woke up, his mind fuzzy with both sleep and his hangover. He nestled into the pillows and the warm body behind him, a wave of calm rolling over him as he realized that he could just spend the day lying in bed with- with-

 

Dean’s eyes flew open.

 

_Shit._

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations. You have reached the end of the story. Opinions? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Also if you've spotted any errors, please let me know.
> 
> By the way I've just finished season six of Buffy and it is absolutely amazing. I seriously recommend it.
> 
> Adios!


End file.
